Today's podcast episode dives into something I've been hesitant to talk about - what happens when we find ourselves struggling emotionally during objectively good times in our lives. I'm calling it "the disorientation of calm."
After years of crisis - an unhealthy marriage, the emotional rollercoaster of separation and divorce, rebuilding my life from scratch - my nervous system is finally experiencing something it hasn't known in a very long time: calm. And strangely, that calm has been unsettling.
When Calm Feels Ominous
When you've lived in a state of hypervigilance for years, your body and mind adapt to that as normal. Your nervous system gets wired for crisis. In my marriage and during separation, if things were calm, I was constantly scanning for signs that something was about to happen. I lived in a perpetual state of waiting for the other shoe to drop.
But now, there isn't another shoe. Logically I know this, but my body doesn't quite believe it yet. It's like my system is grieving the loss of that hypervigilance, that constant readiness. And as unhealthy as that state was, it was familiar.
When Personal Calm Meets Global Chaos
I can't ignore the context in which my personal healing is happening. While my inner world has found some stability, the world around us feels increasingly unstable. The political climate has created real, tangible concerns that affect me, my family, and my friends.
I'm deeply worried about my brother's job being impacted by political changes. I have a family member who lost their position with federal job cuts. Things I once saw as stable options, like government employment, suddenly don't feel secure anymore.
And while I recognize my privilege as a white, middle-class, straight woman, I have many friends whose very existence feels threatened in this current climate. It creates this strange contrast - internal calm meets external chaos.
I'm tired of adapting. I've just regained control of my life after years of it being out of control, and now I feel like the larger world is threatening to take that stability away again in different ways. I'm finally standing steady on my own two feet, but the ground beneath me is rumbling.
There's a particular exhaustion that comes with this constant need to adapt. And I know I'm not the only one feeling it.
A Different Lane of Depression
What I'm experiencing now doesn't match what we typically picture when we think of depression. I'm still going to the gym (mostly), still working, seeing friends, and functioning. From the outside, everything looks fine.
But when I'm alone with my thoughts, there's a heaviness that's hard to shake. And what makes it particularly confusing is that it's happening during a time when I "should" be happy - my book comes out next week (!), I just signed a lease for a new office space, and things are moving forward.
Healing doesn't follow logical rules. It's not linear. (How annoying is that?)
What I'm Doing About It
I'm taking a few approaches:
Treating myself like a child I love - Making sure I'm drinking enough water, eating vegetables, going to the gym consistently whether I feel like it or not, and taking care of basic needs
Looking for glimmers more intentionally - Those tiny moments that calm your nervous system
Combining lifestyle approaches with medical support - I'm a firm believer that medication is a tool to be used in conjunction with other tools
The Truth About Healing
It was hard to decide to talk about this publicly. I know many of you look to me as an example of how good life can be post-trauma, post-divorce, what healing looks like - and I never want to diminish that hope. But I don't think it serves anyone to pretend that healing is linear or that once you reach a certain point, you never struggle again.
The truth is that healing happens in seasons. Sometimes we thrive. Sometimes we survive. Sometimes we feel strong, sometimes we feel fragile. All of these experiences are valid parts of the journey.
If you're in a similar place - doing well on paper but struggling inside, or if you've found stability only to feel unsettled by it - you're not alone. This too is part of the process, and just like the other phases, it won't last forever.
Remember what I always say: The only way out is through.
This Week's Glimmers
The warm weight of my dog Theo pushed against my leg while working
The sun coming out and warming up the weather
A wonderful friend who came to visit
Going to goat bingo (bingoat!) - one of the most fun experiences ever
A hug from my mom when I needed it most
Journal Prompts
If you're processing similar feelings, here are a few journal prompts that might help:
What stories about yourself are you telling yourself? Are those stories true?
When have you felt unsettled by calm in your life before, and what helped you navigate that transition?
What tiny acts of self-care feel most nurturing to you right now?
How do you notice a difference between feeling sad while partnered versus feeling sad when single/solo?
How can you honor both your progress and your struggles simultaneously?
Exciting Updates
📚 My book, Daily Sparkles: Illuminating Your Life with 1000 Glimmers, comes out in LESS THAN A WEEK! Pre-order copies are already arriving, and I can't wait for you to experience it.
✨ I'm making exciting changes to the paid subscriber experience on Substack, now officially called "The Sparkle Circle." Starting this week, I'll be offering:
Monday live co-working sessions
Thursday "Main Character Moments" live conversations
Sunday exclusive podcast episodes
If you're interested in joining, it's $6/month or $60/year with a free trial week available.
Remember, even in these strange, disorienting periods of calm after a storm, even when the world is uncertain around us, there are sparkles. They might be harder to see sometimes, but they're there.
Until next time, keep seeking the sparkles - Emma
Listen to the full episode on your favorite podcast platform or right here on Substack.
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